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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24707290">When you're nice you share with your brothers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnythingEver/pseuds/AnythingEver'>AnythingEver</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher, Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cooking, Cuteness overload, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Jaskier loves all the Witchers, Jaskier takes care of his Witchers, Lambert's POV, Life in Kaer Morhen, M/M, No beta we burn as if hit by igni, Open Relationships, Rating is for his swearing, Seriously get a dentist appointment, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, sleeping</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:34:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,216</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24707290</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnythingEver/pseuds/AnythingEver</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lambert is left to do some heavy chores alone while his brothers enjoy some nice cuddly sleeping time with their favorite human. He doesn't appreciate it. He gets back at them. I suck at summaries. And at titles. Sorry.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Lambert/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>280</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This idea has been born out of the brilliant minds of Quallian and Penny-Anna on the Geraskier discord. It was too funny to be left alone. So here we are. Next update will be tomorrow.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lambert. Was. Fuming! If there was a height of furiousness, it was Lambert-tall. He was used to the bitchy ways of his brothers. They would put sugar in his stew. They would put sand in his bed. After short-sheeting it. They would pee on some of his firewood, and he wouldn't know until he would throw said piece of wood in his fireplace, and the horrid smell would tell him about the whole thing. They would throw his sword by the window. From the highest tower. Under his eyes. While pretending they didn't. It was annoying. But this, this had to beat every single thing they had ever done during their unhumanly long lives!</p><p> </p><p>He should have been wary, when he had spotted their smirks. It was Geralt who had offered to settle the question over a drawing of the short straw. The loser would be left to clean the mess in the kitchen, after the bard had gone to a cooking frenzy. Truth be told, the result had been delightful! The pretty little thing could cook and bake, and Lambert had had his fair share of strange, chef-worthy dishes, things with such exotic names as risotto and soufflés, pastries covered in cream and sugar, delicately decorated with wolves carved in the most delicious thing he had ever tasted, that he learned was called marzipan, and that the over-enthusiastic performer had seemed to conjure out of thin air, water and almond powder. How were they supposed to find themselves fit the day after, when they had filled their bellies to the brim, so much so that even Vesemir had called quits early, asking the pups to clean up the kitchen after they were done.</p><p> </p><p>None of them had been too enthusiastic about it, to say the least. If they were assessing the number of dishes correctly, the kitchen just <em>had</em> to be a mess. Normally, the cooker was the cleaner. But, well, you couldn’t actually expect the poor, frail, <em>human</em> bard to do it all by himself, after working himself so hard to bring - how had he put it?- their taste buds to a neverending heaven of pleasures. A cornucopia of earthly delights. Morsels worthy of the gods themselves. Or something like that. So yeah, no cleaning alone for the bard. Or no cleaning at all, if you were to believe the dark circles under his eyes, and the fluttering of his eyelids. The poor thing was exhausted, and he had rightfully deserved to rest after the fucking level of pampering he had achieved for them. The Witchers. <em>His</em> Witchers, as he liked to recall any chance he was given. Only fair, since he was <em>their </em>bard.</p><p> </p><p>Alright, so, maybe he was more Geralt's bard than theirs. The two of them were disgusting in their lovey-dovey dopey affectionate ways toward each other. It made Lambert want to puke most of the time. Or at least he liked to pretend it did. Truth be told, it was mesmerizing to see Geralt so tame under the hand of this fragile little thing. Sweet. Cute. Lambert would kill anyone who would dare to pretend he witnessed the Witcher <em>thinking</em> those words. Lambert did not think about sweet. Nor cute. But Jaskier <em>was</em> sweet. And cute. And loving. And overfussing. He was always showing so much care where the Witchers were concerned. Whether it was about injuries to tend to, stories to hear, hugs to give... No. No hugs to give! Most certainly not! Lambert was not a cuddler, thank you very much! But maybe, sometimes, during the cold months of winter, it might have had been nice, indeed, to find some human warmth. Some gentleness. Some kindness. And Jaskier seemed to have so much of this to give, and to want to focus it all on their lonely witchery heads.</p><p> </p><p>The first time he came to Kaer Morhen, neither Eskel nor himself understood what had hit them. Vesemir had frowned. What could the bard possibly be after to act so... tenderly over them? He was Geralt's bard, Geralt's fucktoy, as Lambert had so colourfully put it, which had earned him a fist in the mouth from said Geralt, and a fucking band-aid for the resulting bleeding from said fuckt... from said bard, and a fucking <em>kiss on the cheek to make it better</em> but-please-don't-say-this-kind-of-things-in-front-of-Geralt-it-upsets-him-and-well-you-see-how-he-is when-he-is-upset. And then he had winked at him? He had fucking winked at him! And had flirted with Eskel, as if the scars on his face were the most alluring thing he had ever seen! Both of them were at a loss for words, before Geralt explained to them in grunts the concept of an open relationship, and how the singing thing had so much love to give he could completely fit three more Witchers in his overgrown heart. Vesemir had politely declined. He might have been a bit old for this shit. But Eskel and Lambert had soon found themselves unable to resist the hurricane of love, devotion and lust that Geralt had brought along in their cold keep, and winter was nevermore just an occasion to catch up on their otherwise lonely lives between tankards of ale, but a delightful time of getting coddled, spoiled, and fuc... lovemaking in the warm, sweet arms of an everloving human.</p><p> </p><p>And so, the last manifestation of his seemingly neverending care and love for them had been this gargantuan feast he had taken upon him to prepare, and after which the poor thing was definitely in no condition to put the kitchen back to their original pristine state. So, the Witchers had decided to do it themselves. But. They were tired. And someone had to put the sweet little bard to bed. And they had bickered. And bantered. Lambert doing much of the bickering and bantering himself, it might truly have been argued. So Geralt had offered to settle the matter over a drawing of the short straw. And Lambert had lost. How surprising. How even less surprising it had been, when he had been able to <em>truly</em> acknowledge the sorrowful state of the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>He had gasped. A loud, witcher-worthy kind of gasp. His jaw might well have hit the floor. If there was still a floor to find under this mess. There had been walls too, he was certain. And they definitely weren't this shade of white before. Nor were the tables. Which might as well have been altogether replaced by towering piles of pots and pans and colanders and graters and peelers and-- what were even all of those things?! And how could one tiny human accomplish such a revolution over a keep kitchen?!? Jaskier might be a love hurricane, but he was definitely a fucking <em>chaos</em> tornado! And Lambert had lost! He had to clean. All. By. Himself. He was fuming. His brothers were bastards. Of <em>course</em> they had cheated.</p><p> </p><p>Well, payback will be a bitch if he had any say in it, which he had...</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><div><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p></div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Middle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had taken <em>hours</em> to put the damned kitchen in a satisfactory state. Not perfect, not spotless, definitely not immaculate, just satisfactory. Which was far more than what Lambert would have usually bothered with. But he had felt the double pressure of taking care of the bard in such an indirect way, and avoiding the unavoidable ass-kicking he would have had gotten from Vesemir in the morning if he had slacked off. So he had cleaned, and tidied, and organized, and put things back to where they belonged after he had washed them.</p><p> </p><p>Truth be told, he had drawn courage to accomplish the herculean task in the fantasy of the sweet bard praising him for his efforts, being soooooo grateful for what he had done that he would pet his head for hours, telling him what a good boy he was. Just the thought was making Lambert preen, and he had doubled the normal amount of effort he was ready to put in this kind of thing. Plus, he could later boast he had done all this all on his own! None of his brothers had helped him, nope! So praises and pets would be aaaaaall for him. Ha! The two bastards would be so jealous of his extra bard privileges! Which he would have earned through very hard work! The look on their faces, their sulking that he could already hear, gave him an extra boost of energy and care, and he was getting close to consider he had been favored by fate in this task assignment. Close. But not there.</p><p> </p><p>Now, though, it was fucking over, and he could go and grab some well-deserved rest. With cuddles. He could definitely do with cuddles. And a dagger, in case someone thought relevant to mention the cuddles. So, he carelessly threw his apron aside (courtesy of the bard, that had gifted the four Witchers matching aprons two years prior, all off-white with a wolf head delicately embroidered on the top of their hearts. Lambert's wolf was a deep grey. He loved it.), picked it up from where it had landed and hung it properly on the dedicated hook on the wall, beside Eskel's (whose wolf was black with white spots around the eyes. Geralt's was white, and Vesemir was brown, both dark and light). He then left the kitchen and headed to their rooms, glad to finally be able to enjoy a good night's sleep and, as already mentioned, some cuddles.</p><p> </p><p>But first, he had to find both pricks that called themselves his brothers and the singing cuddling device that would be sure to be not far from them. And oh how right he was.</p><p> </p><p>Lambert snorted.</p><p> </p><p>He hadn't have had to look long, for there, in Geralt's room, on Geralt's bed, lied a delicious little bardling, framed and happily shared by two loudly snoring fuckers. And <em>of course</em> there was no room for a third one. The bastards had made sure of it it seemed, seeing as their limbs were sloppily sprawled all over the bed, save for two arms, one on each side, wrapped possessively around the bard.</p><p> </p><p>Well, that definitely wasn't the kind of thing that could deter the young Witcher. Rolling his sleeves, he slowly tip-toed towards the foot of the bed. Lambert knew the bard wouldn't wake up. He was one hell of a heavy sleeper. Fuck, he had even once slept through Geralt being awakened for a midnight hunt, putting his armor on, going to fight the monster, coming back, taking his armor off, and going back to bed by his side, without even batting one of his lovely eyes! And he had no clue of anything in the morning, just wondering why there was blood in Geralt's hair, as he was adamant it hadn't been there when they had gone to bed!</p><p> </p><p>Right now Lambert was closing on his target. Jaskier was lightly huffing in his sleep. Sticking his tongue out in effort, the Witcher reached out ever so gently, quietly grabbing a delicate white ankle. The owner of said ankle didn't even stir. Lambert pulled slowly, steadily, the bard slipped silently on the sheets, through the arms of his monstrous teddy bears, who must have been truly exhausted because Geralt only mumbled a bit at the loss, while Eskel emitted a soft growl. When only the top tier of the bardling was resting on the bed, Lambert scooped him up off it, gathering him carefully in his arms, before going back on the tip of his toes. He had left the door ajar so as not to make more noise than necessary, and he left the room and closed it behind him without as much as a click.</p><p> </p><p>Then, the little bard gingerly tucked in his arms like a blushing bride on her wedding day, he sprinted towards his own room, snickering quietly.</p><p> </p><p>When he was safe behind his closed door, he considered his prize with a shameless grin for a moment. The bard hadn't even flinched and was still sleeping happily in the arms of his captor. Lambert put him delicately on top of his own bed, holding his breath. Nothing. He climbed by the side of the pretty human, setting against him, wrapping him in his arms. Jaskier mumbled incoherently in his sleep, scooting closer to his big spoon. There. Cuddles. With a sweet taste of revenge. Lambert dozed off happily.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The End</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ugh, I can't believe it took me so long to post this, but finally it's done! I hope you'll enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it ^^</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first rays of the sun began gently caressing Eskel's and Geralt's faces and both witchers stirred in the large bed they had chosen the night before to rest their exhausted bodies and their well-fed stomachs. Waking up was feeling nice when one was well-rested, and a small smile was drawn on both their lips. But it should also be pointed out that both were feeling something wanting. Something... Missing. But what? A small movement of Geralt arm told him the exact nature of the problem, and Eskel's realization followed suit. Under their arms was only emptiness. Naught. A big pile of nothing. Eskel's eyes shot open, and Geralt frowned. How come there was nothing when they could swear there had been a bard the night prior?</p><p> </p><p>"Jaskier?" Gasped Eskel in a swallowed, worried breath.</p><p>"Lambert." Growled Geralt in an annoyed answer.</p><p> </p><p>And indeed, the deed was signed, in clear capital letters. Even though the culprit didn't leave any evidence of his crime, they didn't need to bother looking for an alternative to this explanation. Lambert had the motives and the means. His brothers knew, they simply knew. So they went on to take action. Eskel glared and rose up from the bed where they had peacefully tumbled with the bard the night before. Geralt followed his lead, mentally grumbling.</p><p> </p><p>---------</p><p> </p><p>The first rays of the sun had begun gently caressing Lambert's face, and the witcher had been smiling sleepily as he had awoken to a nice, cute, squishy, pretty little bard all wrapped up in his arms. His smile had widened when he had tightened his grip around the sleeping man, who had answered his cuddling by incoherent mumbling and something that definitely sounded like a happy sigh. Everything had been a perfect lazy morning.</p><p> </p><p>Until that sharp knock on the door.</p><p> </p><p>That got a repeat session.</p><p> </p><p>And an even harder one.</p><p> </p><p>Lambert frowned. He was deeply annoyed at being brought out of his happy cuddly haze, and the feeling was accentuated by the precognition that the knocking offenders were most probably his brothers. Who were probably mad. At him. For their suspicion of his mischief. We have to confess, the remembrance of what he did brought a rather mocking smirk on Lambert's lips. He considered his happily sleeping loot for a moment before a most belligerent knock and a yell of "Lambert! Lambert! Open that fucking door Lambert!" forced him to acknowledge the presence of his very rude brothers behind the wooden panels they were currently abusing. He got up, grumbling, and prepared to walk toward the source of the noise, but not before almost carelessly throwing the blanket on the sleeping bard, hiding him from view. A last smirk faded from his lips before he brutally opened the door with a most annoyed face.</p><p> </p><p>"Whaddya want you fuckers?! Know what time t'is?!"</p><p> </p><p>Two thoroughly unimpressed witchers faced him.</p><p>"Yes, 'Bert, 'tis accounting o'clock. Where's Jaskier?"</p><p> </p><p>Lambert raised a quizzical brow.</p><p> </p><p>"The bard? Dunno. Ain't seen'im since yesterday. When you <em>all</em> went to bed. Without me.</p><p>- Yeah well, fairness is a bitch. You drew the shortest straw.</p><p>- Because you cheated.</p><p>- You still drew it.</p><p>- Didn't mean I had to spend the night bardless. Which I did by the way, so fuck off and lemme finish my night. Beauty sleep and all."</p><p> </p><p>He was about to slam the door into their faces when a stirring noise made itself heard, and praise must be given to Lambert for the quality of his poker face at that precise moment. Geralt would have smirked if he wasn't so miffed. So he growled instead.</p><p> </p><p>"Lambert...</p><p>- Yes?</p><p>- What was that?</p><p>- How should I know?"</p><p> </p><p>Eskel was baffled.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, it came from your room!</p><p>- ... Your point being?"</p><p> </p><p>At this point, both Geralt and Eskel were wondering whether Lambert hadn't suffered a concussion or something.</p><p> </p><p>"Look, Lambert. What about you just give back the bard that is obviously in your room, and all is well?</p><p>- All would be well but for me, as you would enjoy his tender loving care, and I wouldn't. So no, I wouldn't give him back. If he were in my room. Which he isn't. So piss off and good night. Morning. Whatever. Gotta take care of that mouse problem, which is obviously the source of the noise you just heard."</p><p> </p><p>Once again Lambert tried to slam the door to their faces, once again he was prevented from doing so, this time by Eskel's hand on the door. The dark-haired witcher asked, in a very patient voice.</p><p> </p><p>"Lambert. Be reasonable.</p><p>- I am. Which is why I have better things to do than talk with you."</p><p> </p><p>Geralt's voice was far less patient.</p><p> </p><p>"Lambert. Are you. Absolutely. Totally. And definitely. Adamant, that Jaskier is <em>not with you right now</em>?</p><p>- Yeah. Totally adamant. And the rest too. Bye."</p><p> </p><p>And finally, he got to slam the door.</p><p> </p><p>Eskel and Geralt were stunned, for a whole solid minute. Then Geralt turned toward his brother.</p><p> </p><p>"Eskel...?"</p><p> </p><p>Eskel sighed deeply.</p><p> </p><p>"Geralt?</p><p>- You know. We discussed this."</p><p> </p><p>Eskel sighed even deeplier.</p><p> </p><p>"We did."</p><p> </p><p>Then, silently, his hands began tracing something in the air...</p><p> </p><p>---------</p><p> </p><p>Lambert smirked. He had managed to get rid of the two pillocks and could now resume his snuggling session with the pretty little bard. Which his bellend of brothers should remember he had earned through very hard work the night before. But nevermind them.</p><p> </p><p>He was almost whistling when he walked back to the bed, but that would have awoken the cute bard, and that would have been a shame. He didn't have time to walk more than three steps, though, before he bounced and yelped at the sudden feeling of an insanely hot sensation, as his sleeping trousers had <em>caught fire!!</em> He frantically whipped his arms in the air and jumped down on the floor to try to extinguish the blaze, when he heard a singing voice from the other side of the door:</p><p> </p><p>"Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!"</p><p> </p><p>---------</p><p> </p><p>Epilogue:</p><p> </p><p>"So he was in your room...</p><p>- I'm not saying he was.</p><p>- So he magically appeared when you caught fire?</p><p>- I'm not saying that's not what happened.</p><p>- Guys, maybe we could--</p><p>- Shut up Jaskier! Lambert, you're a liar.</p><p>- Well, you both are cheaters. And you have to share. You did not share. You have to, and you know it.</p><p>- Guys--</p><p>- Jaskier quiet!</p><p>- And you must not steal. Yet you stole. It's bad.</p><p>- It would have only been stealing if he belonged to someone. Which he doesn't.</p><p>- He was sleeping with us. He was ours for the night.</p><p>- Guys, I really would like to point out--</p><p>- Jaskier. Shut. The fuck. Up. You think he belonged to you? Well, you know what? If I lick it, it's mine!</p><p>- Lambert!!!!</p><p>- There. Mine.</p><p>- Lambert!!! That's utterly disgusting! Appalling!! Eww!!!</p><p>- Well, two can play this game!</p><p>- Three.</p><p>- GUYS!! PLEASE!! DON'T-- EWWW!!! VESEMIR!!! HELP!!! YOUR PUPS ARE LICKING ME!!!"</p><p> </p><p>*noise of ruffling papers*</p><p> </p><p>"I hear nothing. I hear absolutely nothing."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And that's the end of their adventure ^^ toss a comment if you liked it, toss a comment if you didn't, lemme know your thoughts, and you'll make one happy author ^^v</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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